Julian reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded packet of papers sealed in plastic.
“Arthur has a friend who works in county records. They helped me look into the accident, the clinic, and your company. Deborah didn’t just hide me.”
Harrison already knew the next words would be worse.
“She’s been stealing from you.”
The papers contained lists of shell companies, payment dates, property records, and overseas transfers. Harrison recognized his company’s name, Sterling Infrastructure, again and again. Vance Logistics. D.V. Consulting. Northline Materials. Hollow vendors receiving six-figure payments for services Harrison had never approved.
Then he saw the deed transfer for his family brownstone in Brooklyn Heights.
His home.
The home Emily had restored room by room. The home where Julian had learned piano in the front parlor. The home Deborah had convinced him to leave because “the memories were keeping him sick.”
